


Clutter

by FalconEye



Category: L.A. By Night, Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen, Jasper's Haven, L.A. By Night - Freeform, Light Angst, because it's Jasper guys come on, first work in this fandom and I am NERVOUS, glorified drabble really, how the hell do I tag this??, is it fic? is it meta? is it headcanon?, no beta we die like men, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconEye/pseuds/FalconEye
Summary: Over time, Jasper’s haven slowly becomes more and more “cluttered” with gifts from the coterie; it slowly starts to look like someone actuallyunlivesthere instead of just… glorified squatting.





	Clutter

**Author's Note:**

> Technically "wrote" this in my head at like 3 am the other day, threw it together on Tumblr when I woke up. Admittedly, I blame this entirely on the fact that I made the coterie in Sims and started actually decorating rooms for the first time. Which quickly led me to decide that Jasper needed some stuff cuz his place is BARREN from the little we know. So, this was born. Ta-dah?

Over time, Jasper’s haven slowly becomes more and more “cluttered” with gifts from the coterie. Naturally the place ends up decorated like a bachelor pad, with mismatched furniture and knickknacks sort of randomly placed on the first open surface available, but it slowly starts to look like someone actually _~~un~~ lives _there instead of just… glorified squatting. 

An entire well-loved _Harry Potter_ series, courtesy of Annabelle, never really finds its way onto the shelves of his library, but sits between two bookends on his coffee table ( _“So you’ll actually read them, Jasper!”_ ). She also gets him some new, quality nail polish and a manicure kit he’ll probably never use; she seems to know this as well, because she gives him an intense stare and declares they’d be doing their nails _together_ one of these days. Old art from the dearly departed Maharajah that survived the fire (that Victor ~~wouldn’t~~ couldn’t throw out) are hung haphazardly, some literally nailed or duct taped to the walls. Along with them comes new Maharani merch, of course, but also some pretty decent legit furniture. Jasper now has an actual desk for his laptop that mostly functions as a place to put his new gifts, and a _real_ wardrobe for his hoodies and cowls. A few of which now have been specially designed just for him by Nelli herself. They’re… fine, Jasper supposes; he can actually see that Nelli took the time to at least try to put his interests into consideration when designing them. In reality, he’ll probably only wear them when they need to go to another fancy party or ass-kiss with the Camarilla again, but he always tosses one on the sofa before Nelli comes over as if he’s been wearing it. Mainly so she’ll stop asking if he’s wearing the clothes she made for him (or that’s what he tells himself, anyway). 

Eva gives him small little trinkets that mean so much to him. A new necklace and protected charms sit reverently placed in a little wooden jewelry box (Annabelle gave him another pointed stare as she presented it to him). He now has a small, beautiful white porcelain vase with a single red rose sitting right above his headboard, overlooking him as he sleeps. He has a bottle of water under his bed specifically for the rose, although he knows it won’t last forever. He also kept the flower Eva gave him that one day, pressed between the pages of the book he used to translate the ring she gave him. 

He still uses his old “closet” where his hoodies used to be, but it’s more for storage now that he has the new wardrobe. He ends up keeping his old, torn up clothes and shoes and things that he ~~can’t bear to part with~~ couldn’t be bothered to throw out stored there, some neatly folded, some just thrown in and the door slammed shut. In the corner - under all the scraps of leather and hoodie, old shoes and blood-soaked clothes - is the framed picture he’d previously had sitting on the table next to his sofa, face down, and the ring he’d bought the day he’d died.


End file.
